


Thunder

by tinx_r



Category: Alex Delaware Series - Jonathan Kellerman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 00:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13558857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinx_r/pseuds/tinx_r
Summary: This perp is doing my head in.





	Thunder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outruntheavalanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche/gifts).



> I hope this hits the spot :)

This perp is doing my head in.

The good doctor treated him as a kiddy, go figure, but he ain't going in any psycho journal among the success stories. No sir.

Me an' Alex have hunted him all over L.A., seems like, and finally run him to earth here at the harbor, shacked up on an old boat that looks like a derelict. But according to his M.O., it's probably rigged to blow himself and us to the moon.

Never wanted to be an astronaut.

It's a hot, sultry evening, with the smog pressing down and the sea pressing up, all of it the same shade of green-gray. There's lightning on the far horizon, like maybe it's poetic or some kind of omen.

Figures. We're all gonna get soaked.

Alex is on the phone, tryin' to talk down Junior, get him out on deck, or overboard, or anyplace that isn't below decks with a half-ton of explosive. If that's what he's got down there.

I really don't know. He's rigged three bombs so far, killed three people dead. Maybe he's down there with the makings, maybe we're seconds from death.

Maybe he's the fuckup Alex thinks he is, and he bought the bombs, and the only danger we're in is if he chucks a bath-toy through the window. Porthole, whatever.

When the thunder rolls, everyone on the dock hits the deck. Alex, the six restless uniforms, me. Hell, I may not conform, but I don't figure arriving in Rick's E.R. in pieces. He forgives me a lot, but that? A step too far.

The next roll, I don't even duck. But that's the time the pieces of the boat start flying, the heavy orange flames churning through the green.

"Shit," Alex says, and throws his phone. "Shit, shit, shit."

Don't figure he's gonna be able to bill the family court for this one.

I grab his jacket, pull him back, away from the flaming shreds of boat starting to rain down across the pier. He looks at me, shakes his head, looks back. "Shit."

I pull out my own phone and call backup, and an ambulance. He's right. Shit happens.

I guess he's kinda broken up about the kid he knew. Me, when a perp puts himself down, I often feel likes he's done me a personal favor. This time, I reckon he's done us both a favor, whatever Dr. Delaware thinks.

And right now, it's my job to get Alex out of here, and maybe, just maybe, out of his own head. I only got about a fifty-fifty on that one, but it's worth a shot.

"C'mon, hotshot. We don't need to see this. Come on back to the station, you can help me write the report."

He doesn't smile. He doesn't answer. But as the rain starts to fall, he comes.


End file.
